Without Regret
by misty23y
Summary: When someone close to Stephanie dies, she reflects on her life and decides that she wants to live without regrets. Tissue warning, only two chapters. Rating for mild language.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Everything familiar belongs to Ms. Evanovich.**

**Without Regret**

I don't know how I'm going to get through today. I don't know how I'm going to say goodbye to my best friend, a man who I knew I could always count on, though we didn't always see eye to eye. The last few years have been special, knowing him the way I do. Those times we spent living together will forever be engrained in my head. From making love in his shower to his bed, we've spent so many great moments together.

We had those crazy dinners at my parent's house. We never knew if someone was going to shoot a gun (most likely my grandmother), we'd get an unexpected visitor, if my niece, Mary Alice would eat like a human instead of a horse.

But today, we bury him. My whole world came crashing down around me at ten-thirty in the morning, four days ago, on Monday. I was in the Bond Office, picking up my files for the day when Eddie Gazarra and Tank stopped by together. They told me they had something to tell me. The two men went on to explain that my best friend was gone. He went after one of the bad guys and was shot in the head at point-blank range. He died instantly. I remember falling to my knees, collapsing in Eddie's arms, tears streaming down my face. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was too young, too full of life to die. But he did. I don't remember how I got home, but I think Tank drove me. He asked if I wanted to go to my parent's house, or back to Rangeman, but I declined. I needed peace and quiet, I needed to be alone with my thoughts and memories.

I pulled out a box. It's my memento box. It's where I keep things that mattered to me. I have in here the card that came with my first bouquet of flowers from Carl Constanza when he escorted me to our Junior Prom. I have the tickets from my first movie with Dickie, reminding me of how naïve I was. I have a picture of me leaving the courthouse after Dickie and I were finally declared divorced. I have pictures of my time together with Ranger, the Merry Men, and Joe. I look back on those pictures and can't help the tears from falling when I see how happy we looked together.

I don't know why it took me so long to tell him that I fully love him. I don't know why I had such issues telling him I loved him, even though I did. I tried to give him my heart, but I couldn't. I know it wasn't right to keep him at arm's length, though I wanted more. I know it wasn't right to push him away while I fell into another man's bed, only to push that man away for him once more. I know I have been a royal tease and bitch to him at the same time.

I wish I could have fixed myself to be smarter, more responsible. I wish I didn't make him worry so much about my safety. If only I listened and took things more seriously. But it doesn't matter. Me being better at my job wouldn't have saved his life. His death, fortunately, was not on my soul. I don't remember if I ate at all on Monday, but on Tuesday, Valerie came over to visit me. She heard what had happened and knew that he was very special to me. I cried as she held me, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I had a sister who truly loved me. I once again found the love that I used to have for my older sister.

We spoke about our time spent together, which was spent not on elaborate dates but on work-related items or everyday type stuff. In a way, we acted more like a married couple then most married couples do. She asked me if I was had any regrets. I told her I did. I elaborated on them, and she told me that I had to learn from this event that I had to learn from my mistakes, to avoid making them again. If there was something that I wanted, I had to make it my life's mission to get it. I knew what I wanted that day, but I wasn't sure if I would be able to get it, even if I asked for it.

I made too many mistakes. We fought one too many times. I know I pushed him away, and I think the last time was the final time. I can't blame him. We run hot and cold, we fight like cats and dogs, and we push each other's buttons over again. But I know that I love him, and I only hope he loves me enough to accept my apologies and to take me into his arms once more. I'm afraid that he'll think I'm turning to him out of desperation because I lost my number one, but I didn't. I lost my number two today. My number one was still out there, still breathing, only he wasn't talking to me currently.

After my last car blew up on Saturday, he said he needed a break, he needed time to think things through. He couldn't keep going through this. He couldn't keep rushing to the scene of my latest problem while praying the whole time that I was safe. If I wasn't serious about being more conscientious and proactive in my safety, then he wasn't sure that he could stay near me. He left for the shore, at least that's what he told me that day.

Yesterday, Wednesday was the wake. It was horrible yet beautiful. There was a huge turnout. Both from the TPD, FBI, Rangeman, and the Burg. I was surprised to see the reach he had, but then again, I shouldn't be. He was always good at his job, and I know he earned the respect of many people in law enforcement. His family was understandably grief-stricken, especially his grandmother, who always favored him. I went over to them, paid my respects, and was shocked at the warm reception I received. I never would have thought that they would accept me the way they did.

The priest spoke of the things he did for the church and the community, most of which I had no idea that he was involved in. I never knew he gave time to the local boys and girls group or that he volunteered in the soup kitchen once a week. He never told me. Now, I feel as though I never really knew him. Others spoke of his heart, and how he changed from a boy living life on the edge to a respectable member of the community. How his time in the Armed Forces helped to make him the man he is today. His family was against him enlisting, fearful of his safety, but when he returned home, they realized it was the best decision he could have made.

Now, I need to be prepared for my final goodbyes. We were starting in the family church, before the drive to the local veteran's cemetery, which was his wish. As much as his family wanted him buried in the family plot, he wanted to be amongst his brothers in arms. I know that I fall apart at funerals for strangers, but for him, I'm scared. Knowing that it's a military service will only make it harder for me.

I am dressed in a pair of black slacks and a mock black sleeveless turtleneck shirt. I place a black blazer on to finish the outfit with a pair of black boots, without a heel. I don't need my heel getting caught in the dirt at the cemetery. I enter the church, taking the holy water, and blessing myself. I sit about five rows back, behind his family. Even though we were close, I wasn't close enough to earn a spot in the first pew. The service was beautiful, heartfelt, and somber. His honor guard included TPD, members of his family, and a couple of Rangeman. Everyone important was represented. The coffin was carried out of the church to the waiting hearse. His family climbed into the limos, and I walked towards my car.

"Wifey, you're not driving there. Come with us." Manny said, motioning to himself and Vince. I nodded my head in assent and climbed into their truck. We followed the hearse to the cemetery in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. When we arrived, they helped me out. We walked to the grave, where the people who were closest to the hearse were already gathered, waiting for the rest of us to park our cars and walk to the sight. I choose to stand towards the back, knowing how I often break down into uncontrollable sobs. I thought of how I once stood in a cemetery, with my best friend's arms wrapped around me, my head hiding his coat, as he let me sob on his shirt. Only he wasn't here for me to do that today. The priest went through the service quickly, then the military honor guard folded his flag, presenting it to his mother before the gun salute and the playing of Taps. By the time the military honors were finished, I was once again crying uncontrollably. Finally, those gathered started to toss their roses upon his coffin. I wouldn't go up, not with so many people here. When most had already left, my father approached, walking with me to the coffin.

"You know he loved you, Steph."

"Yeah, Dad, I know. I wish that he knew how much I loved him. I know that he loved me, but I don't think he knew that I loved him equally as much."

"I'm sure he did Stephanie. When two people love each other, they know. I know that you loved him in your own way. Now, you need to honor him by living your life and finding someone to love completely so you can fly Steph. True love is what makes a person fly."

"But what if I don't find that person? What if my only chance at true love is being buried today?"

"You will, Stephanie if you allow your heart to accept his heart. I know your soulmate is out there, you just need to open your heart to him, and when you find him, you need to tell him how you feel. You need to communicate, not fight. You need to listen to each other and understand that he loves you; that some of the decisions that he will make will only be to keep you safe from harm. To be whole and happy."

With my father by my side, I said goodbye to my best friend for the last time. I kissed the rose before throwing it on his coffin, keeping the tears at bay for a few minutes. As we started to walk back to the car, I saw him, my other best friend, standing with a rose in hand, paying respects to his rival.

* * *

**A/N: Happy First Day of School (for NYC anyway). **In celebration of me returning for another fun-filled year of teaching adolescents, I give you this little story. Is technically a one-shot, but I broke it up into two chapters. So who's dead? What are your thoughts? I'll post part 2 on Saturday. Thank you, Susan, for your critical eye and for helping me to plug some of the holes in.


	2. Chapter 2

"You were a good man. I hope you rest in peace." He said before throwing the rose on the coffin. He then opened his arms to me, and I fell into them, thanking God that he was safe, that he was here, and that he was willing to talk to me.

"Stephanie, we need to talk, but I know today isn't the day. I'm sorry I got angry the other day. Give me a call when you're ready to talk." He said, getting ready to hand me back off to Vince and Manny.

"No, please don't go. I'm ready to talk now. His death, it's made me realize a few things. Things I know I need to tell you, sooner rather than later."

"Your place or mine?"

"Mine," I replied.

He nodded in agreement, then walked to his car. I guess we are going back separately. As much as I'm disappointed, it will give me a few minutes to compose my thoughts, to hammer out what specifically I want to say to him. Vince drops me off, asking me if I want him to stay if I think there will be trouble. I tell him to go that he will never hurt me, that I trust him implicitly. He hugs me, telling me to call him if I need anything or if I need to dispose of a body.

I walk to the building, where he is waiting to escort me to my apartment. We take the elevator, which I am grateful for. I open my door, grab some water from the fridge, then sit on my couch. He sits on the other side of the couch, where we both look at each other.

"First off, Stephanie, I want to say that I'm sorry. I never should have blown up at you like I did. It wasn't fair to you, and I took out my anger and frustration at having to leave on Friday out on you. You don't deserve that. But, Stephanie, I love you, and the thought of you dying, the thought that we could have been burying you today scares the shit out of me. I don't know how I can survive without you, Babe."

"Ranger, I'm so sorry I yelled at you. You have always had my best interests in mind, and you only tell me to work out, to learn self-defense, and to practice with my gun to make me better at my job and to keep me safe. You aren't trying to change me. I realized when I heard about Joe that I needed to be better trained. He was a cop, he knew how to handle himself, yet he still got killed. That could have easily been me several times over. I regret never telling Joe how I felt about him, but I can live with that regret. However, I could never live if I failed to tell you. So, Ranger, here it goes."

I pause in my confession, thinking about how I want to word what I'm about to say. I was so conflicted for so long. I knew that I loved both Joe and Ranger. I thought that my love for Joe was the long-term kind, the kind of love you share with your husband. I think the fact that so much of our lives intersected from when we were children until his death, made me think that he was the right man for me. I loved Ranged, but I thought that love was the kind of love that you had for the unavailable man, the one you'd enjoy spending time with, even having a fling, but in my mind, it was more lust than love. I view Ranger like a drug, and I needed a hit every so often. I figured, eventually, I'd get over that addiction.

But, when I heard the news that Joe died, I was crushed. I saw some of my dreams fading away. It was in the early morning hours of Tuesday, as I laid awake trying not to picture Joe's lifeless body, I realized that, even though I was devastated, I could go on. Oh, it would be hard. I know it will be a while before I can go to Pino's and enjoy a meatball sub, a while before I can watch a Ranger's game without thinking of Joe, but I can still live my life. But, if it were Ranger who was killed, I know I wouldn't have been able to go on. I realized that he isn't a drug, he's my elixir of life. My reason for living. Joe has walked away from me many times, but I've always been able to live my life without him. But when Ranger walked away, I felt like I was losing part of my life. I'm sad to say that it took Joe's death for me to see what was in front of me these last few years, but I'm glad I see it finally. I deserve to be happy, the one man who makes me happiest is Ranger. I only hope that he sees that he was always my everything, that he was always that man I wanted, even though I was too dumb, too blind, too wrapped up in the Burg to see it.

I continue my confession. "I love you. I am so in love with you, I can't breathe. You are my life, Ranger. When you go into the wind, I lose weight because I'm scared you won't return. When you walked away from me Saturday, when you refused to take my calls, my heart broke in to a million pieces. I can't live without you in my life. I also realized that for us to have a chance, I need to take my safety more seriously. I'm ready for that. If something were to happen to you or me tomorrow, I don't want us to have any regrets. Ranger, I want a life with you. I want to be your lover, your partner. I don't care if we never get married. I don't care if we don't have children. I just know that I want you, all of you, forever. Until Joe's death, I didn't realize how strongly I felt for you. I can live my life without Joe, but I can't live without you."

I took a deep breath, looking at Ranger, waiting for his response. I was starting to get nervous when he finally spoke, his voice heavy and accented with emotion.

"Babe, I feel the same way about you. You are my everything. I can't live without you, and I don't want to. I called my handler. I refused the mission. There is no way I could leave you, especially knowing that I would probably not return to you. Before you worry, don't. I only have eight days left on my contract. I have a right to turn down any mission that will extend beyond my contract end date. I told my handler I was retiring, that I wasn't resigning. He wasn't happy, but I don't give a shit. Like you, I'd rather have one day with you than a lifetime of regret. Babe, I love you."

Once he finished his declaration, we kissed. Our kiss deepened, and soon we were undressing each other, caressing each other's skin, showering each other in love. I know that we have a lot to discuss and that many compromises will need to be made, but in the end, we will be fine, because we love each other. As we both reach that ultimate release, I cuddle into Ranger, once again declaring my love for him.

"Babe, te quiero. But I'd prefer spending our days and night in my place, I have a bigger bed and a better shower. Steph move in with me. I know it's soon, but I'd feel better knowing that you were safe."

"Okay, but only if I can take Rex."

"Of course, and I'll even get him a better home."

"I love you, Carlos."

"I love you too, Babe."

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for your wonderful response. I'm glad that many of you are confused. It was my goal to not make it obvious. I'm glad I succeeded. I have the FBI in attendance because Joe has worked with them a lot, and they respect him. The honor guard, because he was Navy, and would get that upon his death.

A guest reviewer took offense to how I called Joe and Ranger number 1 and number 2. Upon reading the response, I saw where she(?) was coming from, and she made a valid point. Rereading, I realized I didn't do as good of a job as I hoped to explain Stephanie's thoughts about the men. I hope that I was able to clarify her thought process in this installation.

As always, thank you, Susan, for your critical eye and advice.


End file.
